


If You Could See Me Now

by lokideadinside



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Coping, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Family Feels, Family Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moving On, References to Depression, for the last half, memorial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokideadinside/pseuds/lokideadinside
Summary: Eddie coping with being in New York City instead of Bangor on the 20th anniversary of his dad's death vs him having the support he desired while visiting his dad on the 40th anniversary.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 24





	If You Could See Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. A guy named Stephen King made the characters up while high and drunk. Title is last minute because if not for that script song, I would call them the dead dad fanfic and just post it.
> 
> Again not apologizing for the sad plot. Apologies for any mistakes I may have made. I haven't reread it so if you see any issues, no you don't because I probably won't fix them in this one specifically.
> 
> TW: talks of death, dead loves ones, light hints of long term abuse, just a sad thing in general.

The sound of his phone beeping woke him up. Without opening his eyes or moving his face from the pillow, he pulls his phone over to him. He lifts his head up a bit to replace it on the edge of the pillow to read the notification. He didn't want to wake up. He could already feel a migraine building up from the light shining behind his eyes.

Blinking a few times to clear his vision of sleep and rubbing his eyes, Eddie noticed he had a few notifications. Some were from apps that he left the notification running for like his water reminder, his messages & an app game he got into because of a guy at work. In the middle of those notifications sat a text from his grandmother. She was apparently asking him if he was coming to a memorial service for his dad. 

He makes a face and glances up at the date.

Oh.

That was today. Huh. It’s been 20 years now. Eddie was 25 years old and has lived without his dad for four fifths of his life now. 

Eddie blinks slowly and turns off his phone, sitting it back down on his table. He drops his head down onto the pillow, felling a grip around his lung and heart. He forces himself to take a deep breath and got himself up. He looks at his clock.

1:27 pm.

Later than he normally likes. But it was Sunday he could get away with it.

He was about to pull out his laptop to look up the time of the cemetery when it hit him. He lives in New York, alone. He blocked his mother’s number so she wasn’t there to remind him that he was supposed to head to Bargor this Friday. It’s too late for him to be able to get there before the cemetery closes.

He takes a deep breath that was shaky with the growth of negative emotions and thoughts building up and stares at the wall, forcing back tears.

He stares for a minute thinking out his next steps before looking down at his shaking hands. Then he was reminded of a tattoo he got when he was eighteen. The only tattoo his mom couldn’t make a huge deal about, unlike his other ones.

He turns back on his phone and decides to must most all notifications beside his boss, his favorite coworker, roommate & his only friend. With shaking hands, he messaged his friend. It was a friend he made in a group therapy for people that grew up in abusive households. She was very kind to him.

She messaged back quickly, making sure he was okay and didn’t need to contact the emergency therapist from the group. He hesitates before saying that he was fine that he was just processing that this will be the first year in which he won’t be in Bangor on this day in twenty years. She seems to be understanding and texted him when she could. He appreciated her support, even though it was small.

Eddie grabs his wrist with his other hand. He pulls both hands up to his face and stares at the tattoo marked on his face. He could feel tears building up more, but wouldn’t fall. He could feel himself on the edge of some cliff, but not yet falling yet. 

Forever on his skin was a memorial for his dad. He got the idea in high school. 

Doesn’t remember who told him the idea ( ~~ _Bill_~~ ), or who helped him the choice of what he got ( _ ~~Bev~~_ ), or who helped him with the placement ( ~~ _Ben_~~ ), or who’s voices it was that told him to be brave ( ~~ _Richie_~~ ), or who’s told him he’d be a little badass with a sick tattoo ( ~~ _Stan & Mike_~~), he doesn’t remember, but their voices in his head helped him with the courage of getting his first tattoo while still living with his mom. He felt driven by an unknown force to get it and so he did. 

He got it and has no regrets. It fit in with all his other tattoos. This specific tattoo was his dad’s signature with the date he was born and the day he died. Marking his death less than a few days before his sixth birthday.

He only knows this because of him and his friends looking up their names one day bored at school. When he looked up his first name, his dad’s obituary was the first thing he saw. Morbid by what pulled up, he hits the link and reads the obituary. In it, he finds that his dad died Oct 28th and the funeral was the day before his birthday on November 1st. 

He takes a deep breath and drops his hands into his lap staring out the window of his apartment. 

He drags himself out of bed and notices his roommate is gone by the sight of his missing keys. Probably at his girlfriend’s place. He let out a sigh that was so close to being a sigh of relief. He walks himself into the kitchen and pulls out a water, sipping on it as he walks over to the couch. 

He sits down and thinks back, trying to remember any memories of his dad. He took a deep breath again for the third time today since getting up thirty minutes ago. 

—

Thinking back to when he was alone on this day. He turns to the car behind him to see Stan and Bill talking in the front seats while it was harder to see Bev, Ben, and Mike in the back seats. He turns back around to see Richie, who was looking back, holding out his hand for him.

It’s been 20 years since he was alone in New York, miles away from Bangor.

He grabs Richie’s hand in his and walks with him to his dad’s grave.

Black marble carved to say his family name in large, followed by “son, husband, father.” Richie gently sat down on the bench his grandma apparently decided to get for the grave. Eddie lets him as he stares down at the little carving of his dad holding him in his arms put into the ground marking the actual place of his dad’s body. Below that was a matching stone with more specific stuff on it. Like his dad’s name and dates.

He lets out a shaking breath and walks over to his husband, sitting down. He leans into his husband’s embrace, “I think he would like you..”

Richie kisses his head softly, “I think he would be proud of you, Eds, just as you are.” 

He thinks back to every time he heard that. Every time he graduated or did something awarding, he was informed of this fact. No one ever told him that his dad would be disappointed by him. No one ever had the chance because he gave them what they wanted until they died and he was freed.

His mom once told him that his grandparents and aunt weren’t good for his dad. He didn’t believe her at first. He didn’t want to. She was controlling and abusive, but what he didn’t know was his dad also had an abusive mom. Apparently he wanted to protect him from what he dealt with. Sonia thought what she was doing was honoring that wish of Frank. Knowing this now, he couldn’t cuss his mom as hard. He wanted to because she was a bitch, but she loved his dad and his dad’s death hurt her beyond repair. 

He looks up to Richie, “How can you say that.” His voice didn’t raise or sound mad. It sounds hopeless and broken. “He didn’t know me. He knew five year old me.” 

Richie looks to want to say something to cut off Eddie, but Eddie continues, “No Rich, think about it. Everyone tells me that same fucking line. How can you say that? I did what he did. I played along and let them run all over me. I lied and hurt himself in favor of pleasing the same people that hurt him and claimed to love him. How can you say he would be proud of that?”

Richie kisses his forehead, which was the catalyst for his tears. They race down his face as he lets out a broken gasp, almost a sob into Richie’s shoulder.

“I can’t say that without any hesitation because I love you and I’m proud of you even though you did all that. If your dad is really how your mom or grandma described then he loves you and wanted the best for you. If the best for you was to provide that mask your mom or grandma wanted until they died and left you everything, then so be it. At least you are here with me now and being the true you. It may have taken you longer than he would have liked for you to be freed of the pain and stress but you’re free and you’re still you after it all.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Richie and sobs into his neck, so happy to be seen and understood for the first time ever. He stays in Richie’s arms until he’s out of tears. Once he says his goodbyes and places his little bundle of flowers down, he walks back to Stan’s SUV, leaning on Richie as they walk, holding hands.

They climb the middle seats. Eddie wipes what’s left of his tears and smiles as he feels Bev’s hand in his hair from behind him. 

Stan and Bill look back at him and give him matching soft supportive smiles. Bill has a thing of flowers for Georgie in his lap, where they were going next afterwards. Eddie looks back at the rest of his best friends while his husband buckles in.

They all had the same support and gentle smiles on their faces. They all at the same time reach out for him and whisper their support for him. 

“You're so strong.” _Mike_.

“He’d still love you.” _Bill_.

“He’d be so happy you visited.” _Stan_.

“He’d be so happy you’re freed.” _Ben_.

“He’d be so happy you’re loved.” _Bev_.

Richie leans over and kisses Eddie before whispering his own support against his lips, “You’re so brave, Eddie my love.”

Eddie smiles and wipes away the tears that fell before swatting at all the hands, “Get your hands off me, you losers. I get it, I get it. I love you idiots too.” He looks back behind him at the tombstone. 

“I love you, dad,” he whispers one last time as Stan puts the car in drive and drives off. 

He turns back to everyone and listens to their conversations as he holds Richie’s hand. He draws along the lines of Richie’s hand and traces the outline of his hand. He smiles lovingly over at his husband as he talks to their oldest friends.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a coping piece of work so I do ask for you to be gentle with this one, thanks.
> 
> Can find me on twitter @ [og_cryptid](https://twitter.com/og_cryptid)


End file.
